Rebellion of the Enders
by Devildice
Summary: X-over with Zone of the Enders and cameos of a few others...In the year 2038, the way of the world is determined by power. Power corrupts as one young man finds out the hard way. Another wishes to change the world through peace, but in the midst of the th
1. Act Zero

'_The year is 2038. Earth One is on the verge of experiencing its third World War. The battle lines have been drawn between the Neo-US and the Separatists that wish to expand the human influence into the final frontier—the United Space Forces Alliance. The Neo-US is not alone in its quest for totalitarian rule over the new age Space Race. Many other nations such as Russia and surprisingly, Britannia, have offered their forces in an effort to defeat the Separatists. But the USFA is not without its own militia, led by three of the greatest Generals ever to grace the battlefield. _

_This fight will not be without its hardships, but in the end, this insurgence will go down in history as the Rebellion of the Enders—the ones who seek the end of tyranny and the beginning of a true democracy.'_

* * *

**Act Zero**

The crash of thunder in the distance was one of the few things that kept Leo Stenbuck awake inside of the cell. The fleeting moment of light in the haunting darkness kept him from drifting into slumber. That was the last thing he needed to do. Inside of that jail, sleep was a privilege. The Geneva Convention for prisoners of war was abolished long ago in the newly formed United States. Though still a democracy, it was a crooked one. People had freedom of speech, but how could they speak with no tongues? They had freedom of press, but how could they print with no paper? How could they report with no microphones?

Everything in the Neo United States was controlled. Not enough to be considered communism by other countries, but enough to keep the people in check. Everyday life was organized as well. People had the freedom of living their lives, just so long as it didn't deviate from the laws of the Constitution—re-written by whilst the forty-fifth president was in office in the late 15s of two-thousand.

Leo Stenbuck's cerulean eyes long since lost their life, staring aimlessly at the shackles clasped on his wrists and ankles. Since his father's discharge from the military, Leo was separated from his parents and thrown into a foster home. Young and defiant, he was thrown into jail until eighteen years of age. He was fourteen years old. He had been there for a few months, praying that his family was safe. He hoped that they didn't pay for his actions. He wondered if he would even see them again.

If the government had their way, most likely not…thunder roared through the black skies once more.

"Leo Stenbuck, hm?"

He stood over the security guard, studying the boy on the monitor from three different angles. Rubbing his rugged chin, he grinned. "His father…so that's why they want him?"

"But is this okay, Warden?" the guard asked. "What would BAHRAM want with a punk like him?"

The half-bald warden of the jailhouse shot his sentry a dirty look. "Those are the kind of questions you don't ask," he stressed. "If this is coming from them, then it's coming from the Secretary of Defense. We just smile and nod."

"The Children of War…we're supposedly fighting for the next generation, but with the way we're going, the next generation will be fighting for themselves."

"It's the way of the world." The warden shook his head. "A shame…I planned on making that kid's life a living hell here, but now he's leaving."

A pair of men in dark suits entered the small control room, standing at the sides of the door as another figure sauntered in. The warden and security guard gasped as the person came to them. They swore they lost their breath. She was a rather stern woman, though attractive in a rugged sense. Her nametag on her black coat said 'Guines' and there were silver bars on her shoulders. The warden and guard stood up and snapped to attention as the captain approached them.

"You're…," the warden stammered, "you're with BAHRAM…"

The pink-haired woman ignored their words as she concentrated on the boy on the screens. "So this is the boy?" she asked.

The warden nodded. "Leo Stenbuck is the boy you requested, right, Ma'am?"

No, it wasn't the one _she_ requested, but rather _he_ did. From the looks of him, she couldn't see the potential he possessed in controlling _it_. How could it have chosen him? He was a complete nobody. The more she pondered about it, the more her blood boiled so she relented. They were his orders, after all.

"Release him and send him to my men outside," she told them as she turned away, making her exit. "The Colonel is waiting for him."

"Right away, Ma'am!" The warden glanced at the guard. "Make it happen."

* * *

At last, here it was standing before him. Twenty years of research in robotics technology created this weapon capable of winning the war—no, of conquering the world. Project Eve was a large part in BAHRAM's secret project. It would open up possibilities in robotics and the further development of humanoid mechs—Orbital Frames. Adam was yet to be found, but it was only a matter of time before it fell into BAHRAM's possession too.

Now all that was needed was a suitable pilot. He was sure he had the skills of piloting it, but he felt Adam was meant for him rather than Eve. Many trial runs with pilots matching the compatibility with her made her a demanding Orbital Frame indeed as they all ended in utter failure. He was sure, however, that this next runner was capable of carrying out his wishes. There was no one else that came to mind.

"Colonel Nohman, Lieutenant Viola has returned with the child."

Nohman looked over his shoulder at the soldier guiding Viola towards him. He turned back to the towering Orbital Frame encased in reinforced carbon-fiber glass. "Did you retrieve the boy?"

Viola bowed her head. "Yes, sir, as you commanded. The boy is in the holding room until you wish to see him."

"Good," he smiled. The tall, lanky colonel faced his ace pilot. "Everything is going just as I had planned."

Viola lifted her head. "You trust that boy to pilot Jehuty?"

"Do you have doubts?"

Viola hesitated to say, her mauve eyes wandering from Nohman. "…No."

"I know when you're lying Viola. You don't believe that boy can pilot Jehuty, do you?"

"Dingo is a much more capable pilot than that boy."

"Dingo will have the opportunity to pilot a Frame just as powerful once we finish analyzing Jehuty's capabilities. Besides, he's not as…enthusiastic about our plans as much as I want him to."

"Do you think he'll betray us?" Viola uttered.

Nohman's smirk frightened Viola, his face reminding her of a demon. "Only time will tell. In the meantime, bring the boy in the testing facility. I want to see him in action."

"And what if he refuses to pilot Jehuty?"

And the devil's smirk grew more sinister. "He won't—I promise you."

Nohman was truly a frightening man. God help Leo if he refused to pilot Jehuty. Only the Gods knew what went on inside of Nohman's twisted mind, and knowing him he would use what Leo cherished most in order to get what he wanted out of him. All for the sake of power…

Yes, Nohman was a man to be feared.

* * *

_**Rebellion of the Enders**_

* * *

The whistling of mortar shells diving through the evening skies and explosions deafened the ears of the soldiers fighting now what seemed an impossible struggle in the jungle. Their opponents were supposed to be human soldiers and tank infantries, but these 'devils' weren't human, but they didn't seem to be machines either. Screams mixed with the sickening tearing of flesh echoed with the whistles deep within the thicket of the rain forest.

The guerilla soldiers had no choice but to retreat back to base. Throwing fatigue to the winds carrying them, they rushed back to their small camp. At least there within their fortified base, they could formulate a plan against whatever that thing they saw.

"What," one soldier panted, doubling over to catch his breath, "what…was that…thing?"

One of the base guards hurried to the squad. "What happened out there? Did you guys run into an ambush?"

"Yeah," another answered between gasps. "But…that thing…it wasn't freakin' human. It was something…something out of…a nightmare."

"A machine?"

The young grunt nodded as he caught his breath. "I think so. But do you think it could be one of those machines that took down Japan?"

"The Knightmare Frames from Britannia?" the base guard queried.

"Yeah, those things."

"But why would Britannia want to attack us? We're fighting the Americans. They have no reason to--"

The sudden report of gunfire and screams cut his sentence short. The ripping of flesh and tremors startled refugees and soldiers alike inside of the camp.

"The Knightmare Frames?" the base guard stammered, readying his rifle.

"I don't think Knightmares can do what they did to the villagers down south."

"You mean the Charlie rally point was destroyed?"

"That_…thing_ completely destroyed it."

The guard swallowed a huge lump lodged in his throat, trying his damnedest to stop trembling. "What the hell?"

Moments of gunfire and screams from the base camp and it suddenly became silent. Not even the sounds of mortars exploding in the distance broke the eerie calm. Did the enemy leave? No, none of the soldiers believed that for a second. None of them dared to move, either. The enemy could have been lying in wait, hoping for someone to make a sudden move.

One of the soldiers scrunched up his face, attempting to prevent his sneeze. The sensation grew too strong, though, and, "Achoo!"

The sneeze reverberated in the distance and minutes inched by and again nothing. Maybe the mysterious adversary did leave. They could have sworn it would try attacking once a sound was made.

A soldier breathed a sigh of relief. "I guess the coast is clear--"

_**Crunch**_**!** From below, an enormous mecha erupted from the damp soil in an earthshaking fashion; sink its teeth into the poor soul and slicing him into bloody halves with its razor sharp teeth. The others screamed in horror at the figure, a macabre machine in the design of a red and black hyena it seemed. Baring its fangs, it cackled a laugh that sent the soldiers running for their lives.

"Retreat! Get to higher ground!" many of them echoed to each other as they headed for the hills.

The eyes of the beast emitted a golden hue, standing on its hind legs and stretching out its neck. "Ahahahaahahahahahaha!" it screeched, its voice distorted in a haunted manner. "Let me love you!" Whipping its three spiked tails about, it hooted yet again, its voice shaking the earth below it. "C'mon! Let me crush you into pieces!"

The soldiers emptied clips of M5 Carbine ammunition into the armor of the beast as it came charging up the hill on all fours, but the bullets deflected off its steel armor. One after another, the ravenous machine pounced on the soldiers, tearing their flesh apart with its teeth, cackling at its handiwork.

"This is love!" it exclaimed, standing on its hind again and snatching a soldier and holding it high above its head. "Love me harder! Love me faster! _Love me_!"

The man's screams were cut short and the others turned away in tears as the beast snapped the soldier's body in half like a twig, showering in his gore.

"C'mon!" the leader of the remaining five shouted. "If we can make it to HQ, we can get reinforcements!"

They made no arguments. Anything was better than sticking around to share this monster's twisted sense of love. Running into the thicket of the forest, they hoped to elude their pursuer in the darkness of the night.

The fiend howled, "Why do you run? Is my love that overwhelming?"

They ignored its cry, only concentrating on the objective ahead. Bursting through dozens of bushes and hurdling over rocks and mud puddles, they didn't ponder the fact that they were past the point of exhaustion. They would rather be fatigued than killed. That thought alone pushed their bodies to the limit. Their HQ was over the upcoming hill. If they could manage to make it over the hill, they were home free.

"Grahh!"

The soldiers stopped upon hearing the scream of their comrade. The leader saw him to his left. "Sanguel!"

But he was nowhere to be found.

"Nraaaagh!"

Now it was to his right! "Emile!"

He was gone too! What was going on? He was sure he didn't hear that monster following them, but then again, he was so deep into getting away from it that he wasn't focused on his surroundings. Now there was just him and his partner. "Stay close to me, Adrian!" he shouted, holding his rifle at the ready. "I can't afford to lose you too!"

Silence.

He looked over his shoulder. "Adrian?" He searched around and saw nothing! "Adrian! Damn! Not you too!"

He shook his head. He had to get a hold of himself. There would be time for tears after he got to headquarters. Once he was there, he would be able to—

His body froze, his jaw dropping as well as his weapon once he felt the overwhelming aura behind him. This was the same presence that killed the last of his comrades, he was sure of it. And now he was next, right? All he had to do was turn and face his executioner, and he did so, willing the last bit of his strength to turn around and face the shadow towering over him. He backed away, losing the ability to scream as he fell on his butt.

The shadow, giant yet slender, craned its neck down to the soldier's level, its eyes the same haunting hue as the other beast. Its hissed resembled that of a snake. "What do they call anacondas in this country, my friend?" a human voice from inside of the machine queried—a male it seemed.

The man lost his voice, losing all of his bodily functions as he began to wet himself backing into a tree.

"They call them 'Matatoro'—bull killer. Well, that's just one of the many names I've heard anyway."

The shudders of the young male made the pilot of the machine chuckle. Through the eyes of the mecha, he saw the glimmer _she_ mentioned. He smiled. _'There it is, Mother.'_

"Just so you know, all of your friends at HQ are dead. We killed every single person there, children and all." The snake-like mecha cocked its head back as the pilot laughed. "You should have seen it! Such a beautiful end, as death always is. And now you will experience it, first-hand."

Its head snapped forward, opening its mouth as it prepared to devour the remaining soldier; however it stopped within mere inches. The man found his voice and screamed from the top of his lungs as the pilot laughed yet again.

"There it is! The look of absolute terror! Thank you for letting me see it first-hand! As a reward, I'll let you live. I'll let you feel despair—a despair like no other." It pulled its head back and began to slither away. "I wonder just how long you'll live now."

The man's eyes welled up with tears, his life flashing before his eyes many times as the snake's cackle echoed in the hollow chambers of his mind. Its silhouette faded in the darkness, and just like that…

There was silence again.

* * *

The billows of smoke eclipsed the moon's light as the headquarters of the South American rebels burned in an ocean of flames. The smell of rotting flesh of the civilians and soldiers killed in the surprise attack wafted as the evening breeze simmered the inferno a little. In the midst of the black clouds, the contour of a six-winged figure hovered ominously over the scene as if it were the culprit behind the attack.

The form was another machine, arms crossed as the six detached satellite wings and internal flotation device kept it afloat. This one's design resembled that of an angel, though its midnight black paint job would say the opposite. A slender, spiked head, its six crimson eyes scanned the land below. The pilot sat in the cockpit, legs crossed as he observed the live feed of the other two machines. From the looks of everything, the prototypes were successes. The maneuverability of the Nyx was far better than the developers projected and the Echidna's stealth capabilities were pleasing as well. His Seraph had problems with its floatation system in the beginning, but not only did it correct itself, but it seemed to react to the runner's abilities as a human being—if you would consider these hooded figures humans. Reapers were more of a term they grew used to.

"So, you're just going to leave him there?" he asked his partner.

"I want to see how long he lasts before he kills himself. I would give him until he sees his HQ and then…bang!"

"Is he hurting?" a female came over the transmission. "I want to share in his agony."

"You've had enough love for today, Keres," the pilot of the Seraph scolded.

"Big Brother…"

Yes, he was one of the few who could contain Keres' nearly uncontrollable behavior. Big Brother possessed a certain control over his colleagues, and was able to bend them to his will. He didn't know why, but it was the reason why 'Mother' put him in charge of the group. With these Orbital Frames, they would definitely be able to crush any enemy that opposed them.

No, these were not Orbital Frames. The researchers named them 'Specters' which suited their ghastly designs. Either way, they were forces to be reckoned with in this coming World War.

"Let's go. We have a long way until we reach our next objective," Big Brother directed. "Oizys is already there and awaits our arrival."

The other two acknowledged, "Yes, Big Brother!"

Thrusting its arms to its sides, the Seraph's engines flared to life, the blue flames shooting out of its feet and wings carrying it through the skies at mach speeds. It was indeed one of the fastest frames created thus far, and it could only grow stronger.

It was time to proceed on to step two.

* * *

**Act Zero Closed**


	2. To World's End

_Before the story begins, I'd like to point out that there are obviously some differences in the storyline for this Zone of the Enders and Code Geass crossover._

_-Britannia is not the only superpower on Earth during World War III. The Neo-United States and Britannia conquer nearly 75 of the world together._

_-The year is obviously set forward about twenty years._

_-It will take some time to introduce Lelouch and the others, so bear with me._

_-The Neo-United States uses Orbital Frames while Britannia has Knightmares. The US is more advanced…so far. _

_-Britannia represents the US in the anime, at least I believe so. Just throwing it out there…_

_-Oh yes, there are some cameos of other anime series and such in the story as well, but Code Geass and Zone of the Enders is the main focus in this fanfic. :_

_Anyway enough of that…on with the show_

* * *

_**Turn 1: To World's End**_

* * *

Jehuty…that was one of BAHRAM's secret weapons…and they wanted him to pilot it. Leo Stenbuck stood in awe of the vast Orbital Frame. Slender in its design, it possessed a blade on its right 'hand' and small wings to give it flight. From what he overheard from the scientists standing around him, Jehuty was a one of a kind Orbital Frame. They went even so far as to say it would be able to win the war for the US.

But was that what Leo wanted? To serve the US after the tragedies this country forced him to endure. Taking his family away from him, throwing him in jail, and they expected him to pilot the one machine that could help them the most? Leo closed his eyes and looked away in pain. This was too hard to bear for him.

Suddenly, he felt a cold hand placed on his shoulder. Daring to open his eyes and look up, he saw the devil he made a deal with…

'_Nohman.'_ A name that made his stomach churn. He remembered the conversation they had once Leo arrived at BAHRAM HQ.

"_I can reunite you with your family, Leo Stenbuck," Nohman promised him, pacing around the boy sitting in the middle of the interrogation room._

_Those words alone brought the life back in Leo's blue eyes. Snapping his head up at Nohman, he asked, "Where are my parents? Tell me! Are they safe?"_

_Nohman stopped in front of the boy and smiled, his bony fingers cupping tilting Leo's chin ever so slightly. "That depends on your answer to this question…will you serve your country and join BAHRAM?"_

"_My father served BAHRAM!" Leo slapped Nohman's hand. "He was loyal to your cause, and yet he was discharged! For what…? For not taking innocent lives?"_

"_The situation with your father is far more complicated than that."_

"_Too complicated for a child to understand, I guess?" Leo hissed, years of pent-up anger towards the US government seeping through his clenched teeth as he stared a hole into Nohman's skull._

"_But simple enough to comprehend the consequences of your refusal," Nohman replied coldly without hesitation. "How you perform with BAHRAM will dictate whether your family lives…or dies."_

"_What?" Leo snapped. "You can't do that!"_

"_You should realize, boy, that anything is possible with me," Nohman's evil smile surfaced once again._

"Step into the cockpit, Leo," Nohman told him as he folded his hands behind his back.

Leo abided in silence, wary of the consequences of disobedience. The bridge they were on, made the cockpit accessible. Opening the cage to Jehuty's chambers, Leo felt a sudden chill. It felt like Jehuty was calling to him. "I'm just a little nervous," he shook his hand and continued forward, "that's all."

The cockpit shield was made from a special type of force field that made it easier for the designated runner to enter. Dissipating quickly in small blocks, the shield disengaged and Leo eased himself in. The cockpit was below Jehuty's abdomen, which made it resemble some kind of male organ. Leo tried not to think of such a crude thing, but it was the way many Orbital Frames nowadays were designed compared to Britannia's Knightmare Frames that used the backs of their mechas as cockpits.

The seat was reclined, but Leo preferred to stand erect as the shield reengaged. Remembering the days of playing the mecha video games at the arcades, he took hold of the side levers. "How do I start this thing?" he asked himself, his eyes wandering for the 'Start' button.

All of a sudden with perfect timing, it activated. The gradual hums of parts sparking to life and such grew louder until a screen turned on in front of Leo. The acronyms, 'A.D.A.', were highlighted on the light blue screen.

"ADA?" Leo read aloud. "What's that?"

"Good morning, designated Frame Runner," it was a female voice as the onboard computer—a cute one at that. "Please enter your I.D. number."

"I.D. number?" It took Leo a moment to think of it. It was the identification number he was given when he was born. "Oh yeah, _that_ number."

After typing in the six digits, ADA continued, "Confirmed, Frame Runner: Leo Stenbuck…Number 360430. Runner registration accepted…Jehuty standing by and awaiting user action."

It was that easy? Leo thought that there was more to it than that. He didn't complain. If it was this easy, then perhaps helping BAHRAM—as hard as that thought was to digest—would be easier than he thought.

Nohman turned away from Jehuty, his smile growing more sinister. "Now the real test begins." He leaned into one of his subordinates' ears and whispered, "Tell Viola it's time."

The soldier nodded and stepped to side to pass along the word.

Disappearing into the shadows, Nohman left the young runner alone. If Leo was able to get through this, then Jehuty would indeed be the new forefront for BAHRAM.

At least until Target Alpha was retrieved…

* * *

"All Dragoons! Focus your attacks on the enemy's Dreadnoughts surrounding the island!"

The pilots zipping through the dreary ocean skies shouted in unison over the radio, "Yes, Ma'am!"

The large mechs known as Dragoons swarmed around the American warships, displaying their agility as they zigzagged through the machine gun fire from the armadas Vulcans. Their aerodynamic wings allowed the dragon mechas to achieve ultimate maneuverability which was necessary to avoid the homing missiles fired from the main warship of the three Dreadnoughts.

"This one is persistent!" one of the pilots being chased by a homing missile complained, banking a right whilst staying low to the rough waters. The sea parted way for the Dragoon and demonstrating its nimbleness again, it made a sharp ascension at Mach 3 speeds. Surely that was enough to rid of that missile?

The beeping finally disappeared. "Damn!" he cursed, his gloved grip around the controls tightening. "I thought I was done for there!"

"Must be nice!" another pilot told him as he barrel-rolled around the volleys of gunfire, launching his own fusillade of missiles in harmony with his squad from the pods designed into the Dragoons' claws. "I'm having my fun over here!"

The rockets veered around the bullet streams and found their mark, rocking the ship in a grand chain of explosions.

"_Whoo-hoo_!" the pilot screamed as he and his squad of ten looped themselves into ascension to join the commander of the operation. "Did you see that? That's one down, Ma'am!"

Sitting erect in the cockpit of the largest of the Dragoon models, the blue-haired female lieutenant examined the battle through the holographic screen in front of her. Crossing her legs in her skin-tight pilot suit, she folded her arms below her breast. "Don't celebrate yet," she scolded in a tone that caught the attention of every soldier. "Don't relent until the Americans are completely devastated. Squads Two and Three…report!"

"Squad Two reports!" The squad leader said. "Currently engaging Dreadnought Bravo! We have yet to find an opening, however…"

The transmission suddenly cut off. The lieutenant saw the possible reason on the screen. The ship launched a squad of fighter jets to contend with the Dragoons. She cackled, "Hahahahaha! The Americans really believe those outdated Harriers can contest with our Dragoons?"

Nevertheless, the Harrier Threes commenced their dogfights with Squad Two's Dragoons, unleashing salvos of unguided missiles and machine gun fire their way. The Dragoons evaded the missiles and bullets easily, locking their arms to their sides and snapping their legs together as they charged the Harriers. They resembled winged missiles, nearly becoming streaks of light as they flashed past the Harriers. Guiding themselves into the hull of the ship, the five Dragoons burst through the steel hull of the Dreadnought and blasted out of the other side. Dreadnought Bravo would soon sink if it didn't detonate first. Snapping out of their transformed states, the Dragoons came to an abrupt halt and whipped around to see the fireworks. The shockwaves of the explosions angered the ocean, waves crashing onto the small island that served as an American base for their communication tower.

"Dreadnought Bravo is eliminated, Commander!" Squad Leader Two reported with a sigh of relief.

"I see the Dragoon's abilities are optimal," she said with a small smile.

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Things were going as planned. The Americans may have been the technological superpower, but the Separatists were once Neo-Americans. When they defected, many scientists came to the side of the Separatists believing the ways of the organization were far more reasonable than the Americans. The Neo-United States of America sought a life in space that few believed in. Instead of independence on Mars, they believed that Mars would become a planet of the Americans. The Separatists believed that Mars and many other planets becoming inhabited should have all countries live together in peace. While the Americans saw this as an impossible dream, the Separatists saw it as a reality and thus divided themselves from the Neo-US to form their own nation—the United Space Forces Alliance. Led by three generals that once served on the President's cabinet, the Space Forces quickly gained supported from other small independent countries not yet conquered by the US or Britannia. Even the Euro Universe—which consisted of countries such as Africa and Russia—and surprisingly the Chinese Federation lent their support to the Space Force Alliance. Alas, though the US is alone in this war—Britannia declaring neutrality in the conflict for now—its main military force BAHRAM is still a force to be reckoned with.

And if BAHRAM forces came to aid in this battle, not even the Dragoons, the Space Forces main mecha infantry, would be able to win. That was the reason why this assault was supposed to be a Blitzkrieg. They were taking too much time!

"Squad Three!" the commander yelled. "Finish Dreadnought Charlie now!"

The Third Squad's leader acknowledged. "Yes, Commander!"

"Commander," Leader One spoke up, "what about the tower?"

Her piercing blue eyes narrowed their battle-hardened gaze on the image of the communication tower. Their main objective was to destroy it, after all. "That's why I'm here," she answered in a low tone, wrapping her hands around the controls and yelling, "Awaken, Panzer Dragoon!"

The horned, snake-like Dragoon emitted a dragon-like screech as it broke away from the group of smaller Dragoons and dive-bombed towards the island.

"The Commander is using Panzer Dragoon!" Leader Three shouted to his squad, circling over the Dreadnought whilst dodging gunfire. "Let's finish this before she uses _it_!"

"We got Harriers coming from the nine o' clock!" one of the members reported.

"Let 'em come!" Leader Three challenged as lined up the ship on the target reticule for his special weapon. "We'll destroy this thing before they get here! Ready for _White Flare_!"

"Yes, sir!" the other four lined up the Dreadnought on their reticules as well, keeping enough distance to stay out of the Vulcans' range.

Steady…the top began to align with the bottom…and then…

"Five seconds until contact with Harriers!"

They ignored the warning from their computers. The side reticules finally became parallel with the top and bottom, and then…

"Three seconds!"

"_Fire_!"

Beams of light burst out of the mouths of the five Dragoons, all of them piercing the armor of the ship and destroying it in the same fashion as the other two. Making haste into the skies as the Harriers came; they watched the enormous Panzer Dragoon descend upon the helpless island.

It was its turn now to give them a show.

The Harriers unloaded their entire payload of missiles in order to destroy it; however, Panzer Dragoon's state-of-the-art shield crushed their final hopes of stopping the inevitable.

This was too easy. She cracked a small yet evil smile as Panzer Dragoon screeched. "Now—commence White Storm! Purge this island of the Americans!"

And the colossal machine did so, unleashing a tempest of lasers on the island with the dozens of cannons on its belly. Whipping its body as it ascended, the final laser cannon from its spiked tail fired a blast that expanded the dome of the explosion two-fold. The blast swallowed the island whole and disintegrated the approaching Harriers. The Panzer Dragoon was truly one of the Space Forces most powerful weapons, and the small island's destruction was but a glimpse of what it was capable of doing.

The black monstrosity resembled a leviathan sent by Hades, floating above the infernos in a haunting fashion.

The commander of the operation sat back in her seat and crossed her legs, breathing a sigh of relief. "Mission accomplished."

She suddenly clutched her chest and slapped her hand over her mouth as she began coughing uproariously. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt a painful sensation flaring up in her chest. It was happening yet again, and when she removed her hand from her mouth, the evidence was there…

"I don't have much time left," she told herself.

The blood on her hands was living proof.

* * *

The sleek black Orbital Frame touched down at the holy sanctuary, its insect-like legs keeping the machine balanced somehow. Its six detached wings locked themselves into the mecha's exposed back and the cloaked pilot jumped out of the chest cockpit and landed in front of the two figures, immediately lowering onto one knee and bowing his head.

"This is one of the Orbital Frames your people and mine have been working on?" the Britannian man in royal attire asked the woman in the white cape.

A beautiful woman she was, her light skin tone resembling that of an American. She kneeled down to her dark subordinate and reached inside of his hood, running her gloved hand through his face. "We've decided to name them Spectres," she told the prince. "They're made from both current Orbital Frame and Fifth-generation Knightmare technologies."

"Its float system…our scientists are still researching this and yet you Americans…," the prince chuckled, running a hand through his short, blonde hair. "And tell me why we are working on this joint project? Britannia isn't going to help you against the Space Federation."

"I'm not interested in the petty affairs between America and the Separatists," she told him, retracting her hand and rising as she stepped back. "I'm only interested in my organization's ultimate goal…which is why--"

"I already told you," the lanky prince cut her off, "the Emperor won't see you just because of your dream."

"But it'll soon become a reality, that I promise you." She smiled, placing a finger on her glossy lips. "Will you heed my advice, my dear Prince?"

"Hah! You expect me to believe something as preposterous as me being assassinated? The Elevens aren't bold enough to do such a thing!"

The woman dropped her finger, only laughing in response to the prince's skepticism of her prediction. She supposed he would learn from his mistakes, however doing so may bring him to his demise.

That didn't matter. As long as her plans continued, loss of life didn't matter too much.

"Very well, Prince Clovis."

"I expect you to keep your end of the bargain, Miss Julia," Clovis told her. "If word of this alliance surfaces to the media, I will deny all knowledge of it."

The woman named simply Julia turned to Clovis, her smile still refusing to fade. "My organization is the epitome of espionage. You never know, I just may have some agents working for you."

When she pointed to him, Clovis felt his heart jump a little. Julia laughed.

"I'm kidding, Prince. An American joke, if you will…"

"Just get the job done."

And with that, Prince Clovis and his guards headed back inside the temple. Julia and the pilot of Seraph waited until they closed the large doors behind them before speaking.

"Did you find it?" she asked him.

The young man kept his head bowed. "No, my Lady."

"Then it must be with the Federation." Julia bit the fingernail of her other hand. "I must get a hold of Anubis before Nohman."

"The frame itself?"

"No, Nohman can have the damned thing for all I care," Julia scoffed. "I just want _it_."

"For Seraph?"

Julia nodded. "Right…with it, we can balance both Britannia _and _the Separatists."

"And cause tension between the two?"

"Oizys and Iblis will ignite the flames, I assure you. I just want you to cause an inferno."

"And the Americans?"

"We'll stay loyal to the Secretary of Defense for now. He trusts us too well."

"He trusts you, my Lady."

"Right," she laughed, flicking a black braid of her hair back, "stupid man. If everything goes according to plan…then Charles will have to acknowledge me."

Looking above her head to the stars, Julia saw the satellite colony floating above the Earth with the moon. It was there that it would all begin and end...she was sure of it.

Reaching out for colony, she whispered his name and grinned.

* * *

"_To World's End…just as you told me, sweet prince."_

* * *

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Lost Colors

**Turn 2: Lost Colors**

* * *

"We must maintain our defenses!"

"Hurry and fortify our left flank! It's coming!"

The transmissions of the opposing forces bleeding over onto his frequency annoyed him ever so. Hearing the sniveling of his foes was an expediency he would rather do without. Unlike his brothers, he did not care for the suffering of his opponents, but the mission itself. If accomplishing the task involved genocide, then so be it. He was willing to destroy the world for his Mother's sake. It was the fate of those born without a purpose. Did that make him an expendable pawn?

He narrowed his thin, jade gaze on the mass of units below and maneuvered his Orbital Frame through the gunfire. Like an acrobatic in the sky, his special-made frame surpassed the Glasgows his opponents used in both technology and on firepower. Stretching its devilish wings great distances, it raised its claw high above its head and created a swirling ball of energy in a matter of seconds.

"What the hell is it doing?" one of the soldiers below hissed. "C'mon! Destroy it while it's stationary!"

Try as they may, the bullets from their Knightmares' guns deflected with ease thanks to the fiendish frame's energy shields. The ball of energy immediately expanded into an inferno that was ten times the size of the frame creating it!

"Maximum output," the on-board computer informed him. "Ready to fire…"

"Shit! That thing looks like a meteor!"

The pilot of the devil frame bore no regrets. It was time to take their lives.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he uttered, "Set this land ablaze, Iblis…"

The Orbital Frame, Iblis, pointed down at the hundreds of Glasgows firing at it like a god casting judgment upon its followers. The energy sphere of orange descended quickly upon the desert land, and before the units had a chance to disperse, it made a significant impact. Iblis used its wings for a rapid ascension as the meteor began making its crater…one that the enemy would not soon forget.

"Retreat! Retreat! Hurry! We must--"

The transmission was cut by static just like all of the others. He heard screams that could pierce human ears, he heard cries, and prayers to gods. But none of this affected him. He had long grown tired of feeling sympathy for the enemy. Watching the explosion tear away the land and erode valleys with its severe aftershock winds, he clenched his fists.

He wouldn't shed any tears. Not again.

"All targets have been eliminated," said the computer. "Mission accomplished. Area Seven has been cleared of all enemy opposition. Duration of mission: two hours."

Shrouded in a hooded robe of black, the runner of Iblis was able to hide his emotions well. Floating inside of the CPU sphere that granted him complete control of Iblis, he allowed the computer program to take over in plotting their next destination.

"They're late," he muttered under his breath before hearing the buzzing of an alarm on his wrist. He looked down and saw his watch blinking 9 o'clock in the morning. He grunted, "Then again, so am I."

* * *

"We're going to be late for class again because of your gambling addiction."

"Please, don't think of friendly games such as chess as a gambling addiction, Rivalz."

Stopping in front of the mansion housing the latest victim of nobles, the two schoolboys studied the men in black suits standing guard at the door. Burly and intimidating they appeared, but the young man, Lelouch, chuckled as began ascending the stairs.

"Ah, wait!" his companion, Rivalz, sputtered as he removed his scooter helmet and hurried after Lelouch. "Darn it, this is seriously going to reflect on my grades."

But it was the usual routine when hanging around Lelouch Lamperouge. They had been friends for as long as they had attended Ashford Academy, and Rivalz always thought of Lelouch as a sort of an oddball. On the other hand, many geniuses were considered odd in their lifetimes and Rivalz did see Lelouch as a whiz of sorts. He never lost a chess game during his escapades, trouncing nobles for the mere look of astonishment just knowing that they were bested by a mere teenager.

Lelouch had a feeling today's session would be no different as he came to the door. The two sentry suits at the door looked down at the two skinny schoolboys with adamant looks.

Lelouch's mauve eyes hypnotized when he locked eyes with them, his tone cool and confident, "I have an appointment with your master… a friendly game of chess."

The two guards glanced at each other then at Lelouch. "You're his opponent for today? A kid?"

Lelouch laughed, "Yes, I know. I'll probably be an easy win for him. But there's no point in not trying, right?"

The guards wouldn't argue that point, and he was on their boss' schedule for the day so he checked out. They opened the doors for the boys and kept their stern eyes on them as they entered the mansion, shutting them in as soon as they entered.

"Weird guys," Rivalz commented before turning to Lelouch. "You sure this is okay, Lelouch?"

"Of course, Rivalz." Lelouch smiled. "Nobles are the easiest preys to conquer."

"Ah, you must be the master's chess opponent for today," a frail young maid came from the other room for the two.

Lelouch grunted and nodded. _'An Eleven servant…I'd think no less of nobles here.'_

She was indeed an Eleven serving under a Britannian, Lelouch was sure of it. It was how things went in Area 11, formerly known as Japan. Invaded by Britannia for one of their greatest resources, Sakuradite, the Japanese were quickly overwhelmed by Britannia with the Mobile Humanoid Armored Vehicles or Knightmare Frames. Many Japanese were killed during the small war, and the end they were utterly defeated. Stripped of their name and pride, the Japanese were renamed as Elevens as was the country's name became Area 11, the eleventh country conquered by the Britannians. The Neo- United States remained neutral during the entire conflict, which surprised many political analysts. The Americans were usually the first to stand between countries going to war, but they remained silent. Not even the President commented on the invasion, which contradicted his beliefs. It earned Americans the Elevens' hatred. Hell, the Elevens probably despised the Americans more than the Britannians.

Such politics bored Lelouch for the time being. Only the here and now mattered to him. Following the maid into the game room, Lelouch laid eyes on his next victim. He was another snobby Britannian noble, arrogant smile and all, finishing a game against an old man.

"Hmmph, has your substitute arrived?" the noble pondered.

Rising from his seat almost immediately, the old man felt as though his guardian angel had come to save him from his predicament. "I'm saved!" he laughed as Lelouch and Rivalz approached the chess table. There were about five more suits in the room surrounding the table, all of them giving Lelouch suspicious looks.

"A student?" the noble asked.

Lelouch stopped and smirked. "Hm? A noble?" he mocked.

The noble tapped the butt of his nail file on the table, furrowing a small yet thick gray eyebrow at Lelouch. "Youngsters are lucky. They have plenty of time." His expression grew more sinister. "Time to regret…tell me, what is your name, boy?"

"Lelouch Lamperouge."

"Whoa," Rivalz gasped as he came in for further examination of the dilemma Lelouch was getting into in this game. "I don't know if even you can win this one, Lelouch!"

"Rivalz, when should I depart from here in order to make it to the next class?" Lelouch asked him as though he didn't notice his friend's concern.

"I don't know…if we hurry, I'd say about twenty minutes."

"Then I'll ask that you drive safely on your way back."

Rivalz gave him a confused look as he went to take his seat at the table.

"This game will be over in nine minutes," Lelouch told him as he took his seat. He spared a glance at the old man. "About that thing I asked for…"

"Yes, I'll talk to them about it," the old man replied.

"Nine minutes?" the noble echoed. "It's twenty seconds per move."

Lelouch picked up the black King chess piece, an earnest expression pasted on his face. "It'll be enough."

"The king?"

The noble broke out into laughter from the move Lelouch was about to make. To move the King chess piece first…what was Lelouch thinking?

From the small smile on Lelouch's face, he was planning something big. And the noble's overconfidence would cost him dearly.

He guaranteed it.

* * *

"Ah, Lady Alana, you're back," a soldier greeted the blue-haired pilot entering hangar, snapping to attention and rendering a salute.

Alana acknowledged the masked soldier with a grunt, looking around the large hangar filled with Dragoon mechas in for maintenance. "Where is General Renoa?" she asked him. "I need to talk to him."

"I'm afraid he and the other two generals are in a meeting, but perhaps I could assist you, Captain."

The captain of the Dragoon Battalion turned around the soft voice and immediately stiffened herself at attention. "Ambassador! And Chief Uzuki!"

The man dressed in white laughed, flicking his pallid bangs over the right side of his face. His white eye always gave Alana the chills and this time was no different. The Ambassador always had a tendency of sneaking up on her, and he always had the chief researcher of the mobile robotics section with him, the beautiful Chief Shion Uzuki adjusting her glasses and holding her folders.

"Please, Captain," the Ambassador raised his hand and grinned. "There is no need to be so tense around me. I'm not really anyone important."

"You're a Lord," Alana snapped back, bowing her head. "I must show my respect to someone of such a high status."

True, though he never did ask for such a high position in the world. Anyone deemed a 'Lord' was considered of great importance when it came to world events. Though they could never assume positions of true power such as Emperor of a country or President, they were considered as such by the people for their unyielding devotion for humanity. Serving as an Ambassador for the Neo-United States before the Separation, Ambassador Phoebus ended many conflicts between countries including the second Cold War between the US and Russia. Many were shocked to find out that Lord Phoebus joined the ranks of the Space Federation, but those many have sided with him nonetheless. Though he is not the true leader of the Space Federation, the public deemed him so. The three Generals of the USFA acknowledged him as such too, much to his chagrin.

Lord Phoebus placed his hands on Alana's shoulders, leaning forward with a gentle smile. "Raise your head, Alana," he whispered.

Slowly daring to look up, Phoebus' hands slid down to her arms as the taller woman wrapped her hands around his arms, nudging him away. "I must remain professional, my Lord," Alana scolded him, though her blush said different.

"Yes, I suppose," he stepped back and sighed. "You're still as uptight as ever, Alana."

"How did Panzer Dragoon operate for you, Captain?" Chief Uzuki queried.

"Superb, Ma'am," Alana replied. "But I expect nothing less from the top researcher in robotics."

Shion giggled. "Please, I'm not that great. Just doing my job."

"Forgive me if I sound rude, but I know you aren't here just for me."

"We were actually on our way to Gamma Sector," Lord Phoebus said with a cross of his arms. "Chief Uzuki is continuing to further the technology of the Dragoons as we speak."

"Could it be the new Dragoon unit I've heard so much about?" Alana wore a small smile as she rubbed her chin. "Or could it be…Lord Phoebus' pet project?"

Phoebus' only reply was a mirrored smirk.

"We were thinking of having your apprentice test run the new Dragoons," Ms. Uzuki suggested.

"Celeste?" Alana's sixteen year old apprentice flashed through her mind, the tomboy she was. The skill was certainly there, though. "She said she was interested?"

"Only if her master approves," Lord Phoebus teased Alana.

The seasoned veteran pilot willed away the rising flush in her cheeks. Celeste Sinacide had been under Alana's care for years since an incident at the research facility where she was raised. Alana thought of Celeste as a tomboy, which was exactly what Alana was when she was young. She reminded Alana of her in so many ways, it was weird. Celeste was always smiling when around her too. When her master vanished, so did her smile. She was very attractive and mature for her age as well.

Alana was sure she would be able to take over when she was gone. She smiled sadly at the thought…Celeste…

"Alana…," Phoebus uttered her name, sensing her sadness and reaching out for her cheek. "Would I be able to spend some time with you before your next mission?"

Alana's hand climbed up his arm, reaching his hand. She cupped it around hers and reassured him with her smile. "Yes…yes, I would like that...sir."

* * *

"Ha ha! Nobles are the best!" Rivalz exclaimed as the noble stared at the table, his eyes wide in disbelief as Lelouch rose from his chair. "Because of their pride, they'll have no choice but to pay!"

"Have it sent to account as planned," Lelouch told the astonished noble before leaving the room with Rivalz.

"That's a new record, too. Eight minutes and thirty-two seconds!" Rivalz added as they made their departure from the mansion.

"He didn't have much time himself," Lelouch said composedly. "Nobles, hmmph. They're only masters because of their special rights."

"You wanna take on Jaireven next then?" his schoolmate challenged with a sly grin. "We're different from Britannians…"

"How could they? Involving innocent people…"

Rivalz and Lelouch stopped, looking down at the crowd downstairs watching the large television built into the skyscraper. The image on the television showed one of the connected twin towers in another part of the city billowing with smoke. Suddenly, the live feed disappeared and the Britannia emblem came on as a female voice announced, "Thank you for your patience. There will now be a public address by His Majesty Clovis, the Third Prince of the Britannian Empire."

And there he was, adorned in a royal suit of blue with a cape of white. He wore a face of concern, though Lelouch couldn't help but scowl at the young prince of Britannia.

"To the people of the Empire," he began, "and of course to the many Elevens who are cooperating with us." He clutched his heart as his expression grew grimmer. "Do you understand? My heart is now being ripped into two! It's being pulled into a heart of anger and a heart of grief! However, I, who has responsibility over Area 11, cannot bend to these terrorists!"

Lelouch's scowl grew darker, his fists shaking.

"Why? Because this is a fight for justice! A justice that protects all forms of peace! Now, everyone…Let us all lift up our condolences for the eight that sacrificed themselves for the sake of this justice, shall we?"

Lelouch and Rivalz continued down the stairs as Prince Clovis neared the end of his speech, going into the parking lot where Rivalz parked motorbike. Lelouch pressed the meter holding the motorbike as the city prayed in silence.

"You're not doing it?" Rivalz wondered.

"What about you?" Lelouch countered.

Rivalz chuckled, "It's embarrassing."

Lelouch smiled and laughed, "True. Truth is, even if we cry, the dead won't come back to life. It's as simple as that."

"That's pretty harsh." Rivalz pulled his red goggles down over his eyes, hopping onto his bike.

"Well, in the end, it's just self-gratification." He looked back at the image of Prince Clovis, unable to rid himself of that bubbling hatred in his heart. He kept his voice calm, however, at least around Rivalz. "No matter how hard you try, the world can never change."

'_And neither can this feeling I possess,'_ he thought to himself as he climbed onto the side seat. _'Not until I've gotten my answer.'_

* * *

"Wonderful, Your Majesty," one of the Britannian women attending the social gathering commented. "To think you were just enjoying yourself at a party a moment ago..."

Clovis with his narcissistic swagger stepped down, his guards taking his cape off his shoulders. "Well, the governor is the face of Area 11. Doing this sort of thing is easy."

"My, you're full of confidence," another woman giggled.

"I'm merely preparing myself," he replied, straightening his white ascot. "If I don't show confidence, it'll only give the media more ammunition." He turned his light blue gaze towards the media people standing on the wall to left.

"Oh ho," one of them spoke up, "we were just hoping if we could provide His Majesty with even a little bit of information…"

Clovis opened his mouth to say something in return, but…

"Your Majesty!"

Entering the ballroom with a purposeful stride, a bald man with a monocle hurried towards Clovis, breaking through the crowd.

"How rude of you," Clovis sighed with a shake of his head. "What is it?"

"I ask for your forgiveness, but…" He leaned in forward, so that the others could not hear, "our project has been stolen."

"What?" Clovis snapped, startling the man. "You fool!"

The man stepped back, wiping the sweat down his forehead with a handkerchief. "We told the police it was just some old medical equipment," he tried explaining. "If we could just move all of our forces--"

"Send out the supervisors!" Clovis cut him off, retaining his calm over the pressing matter. "Use the Knightmares, as well!"

"That's another thing, Your Majesty…," he didn't want to mention this, but the situation dictated it as so…

"What is it now?"

"About our 'Guest'…"

* * *

"Hold it! His Majesty gave you strict orders not to interfere with Britannian affairs now!"

She stopped as did he.

The soldiers kept their weapons trained on the two nearing the aircraft. "We'll handle our own insects! There's no point in you Americans sticking your nose in now!" another grunt yelled.

"But it seems as though these so-called insects have done this many times before in these past couple of weeks," she said, her back turned to them. "You can hardly call them maggots now…they've become bothersome flies. I'm just offering to help you swat them down."

"What could you actually do with a piece of junk like that Harrier? We have Knightmares!"

"Aha!" She spun on her heel and faced them with a mocking grin. "Now how can you deny a pastime like this?" she asked, pointing at the aircraft in question. "Besides…things are not what they seem."

"Regardless, you are to stay here! That's an order!"

The soldiers took a step forward, but the woman's laugh stopped them cold. Clearly, she knew something that they weren't briefed about. Either that or she was insane as ten rifles were trained at her chest. She walked around to her hooded companion's back, caressing him on the shoulders, and leaning in to whisper, "Make them dance for me, will you?"

The young man obliged without question, "Yes, my Lady."

And in an instant, the puppeteer began his horrendous show.

* * *

**To Be Continued…**


End file.
